


Silk in Dust [McHanzo Week]

by sinning_cupcake



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hunter AU, Hunter McCree, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, McHanzo Week 2017, Overwatch - Freeform, fluff 'n smut coming in, hanzo shimada - Freeform, jesse mccree - Freeform, oni hanzo, siren au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinning_cupcake/pseuds/sinning_cupcake
Summary: Contributing to the McHanzo Week 2017 with a collection of one-shots that follow the themes and even go beyond that. There will be an exploration of several AUs that focus primarily on the beloved cowboy and his archer.





	1. Among the Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> Every new "chapter" will be organized as a new work and I am more than excited to explore one of my favorite ships in the Overwatch fandom. One of my friends decided to collaborate with me on a few works of her wonderful art.  
> So, we begin.  
> Here's the link to the following piece: http://bubblesart.tumblr.com/post/162062035330/collaboration-done-with-sinning-cupcake-for-the

 

**McHanzo Week Day I**

**Theme: Day || _Night_**

**Among the Fireflies**

It wasn’t always that Hanzo and Mcree found themselves looking over the same objective over a small table with a single light hanging above it. Their missions were always different, made for a sophisticated taste and skill that had its own fortes. However, this time, it seemed that luck decided to skip the bullet in the spinning Russian roulette and give the two men a chance to witness each other under the same tension of an assigned kill. 

The targets were barely known of, the bounties on their heads couldn’t match the zeroes Jesse had seen the posters with his own face printed in heavy ink. No one could come close to the price that seemed to grow by the day.  However, the gunslinger was barely affected by the fact that he was wanted dead; it was quite the opposite: he was proud of being feared. 

Hanzo, on the other hand, kept quiet as they made their way through the ghost town of Route 66. It was different from the atmosphere the Shimada was used to back in Japan. Instead of the air became still with the scent of cherry blossoms, the archer smelled the dryness of the dust that managed to rise to his feet as he walked. The bloody glow of the canyon reminded him of a picture from hell: unpredictable and endless. He didn’t like it, but a mission was a mission and second thoughts were dismissed. To redeem himself, Hanzo was ready to step over his own picky habit and change preferences. As long as Jesse was walking by his side, the assassin was content he could get used to the new environment. 

Route 66 was a silent ride.  The spirits of the past haunted McCree’s thoughts as he sunk deeper into them, the clicking of his spurs becoming the only sound that echoed around as a response to his presence. He always fell quiet, barely responding as he led their duo further into the depth of nostalgia. Jesse often told Hanzo about his past, carefully sharing something from his life that not many had the honor to listen to. The archer always watched as McCree leaned back against the chair, a fat cigar stuck between his lips as he murmured about the dangers of the West, rebels, Blackwatch, and the infamous Gabriel Reyes that now became a nightmare. 

Jesse appreciated the way Hanzo listened. The Shimada knew patience, something that Jesse lacked at times and something that completed him every time the archer sat nearby. They learned a lot from each other just by hearing the steady beating of a heart and surely Hanzo taught the cowboy how to appreciate simplicity in its own tender beauty. The man was a part of the gunslinger’s existence now and there was and endless hidden worry of losing something that impacted McCree so greatly.

The sun was settling slowly, its burning rays slid along the curved rocks of scarlet formations and lost somewhere in the cracks. The sky exploded in rich tender hues that reminded of a battle of dragons whose blood stained the puffy white clouds. The heat was falling as bit by bit the crimson crawled downward, following the small sphere behind the sharp line of the horizon. It was lost at the tops of the canyon before dying somewhere far away as it let the cool colors dominate the sky. The blues exploded, laughing as the war of night was won and the stars spilled over the sky as if an audience began to fill their seats to watch the humans far below live out their lives in the darkness. For many, it was just another night, but for Jesse and Hanzo it was another challenge to survive. There was no rest during those long hours of loud cricket orchestra and a game of shadows. 

They sat near an edge, far from the ghostly road since there wasn’t a guarantee that they were alone in this place. The ghost town might’ve been quiet, but the sound coyotes far away reminded the duo yet again that dangers lurked on every corner. Jesse planned to start a campfire, yet Hanzo insisted  for the Moon to be the only light source tonight in order to prevent their targets from knowing that their killers were close. Who knew, perhaps the wanted heads were just around a rock, waiting for their hearts to stop beating and blood to soak into the dry ground. 

McCree agreed, leaning his back against the warm rock that overlooked the everlasting nothingness ahead. He thought to himself of how many people jumped here, knowing there was no exit from whatever problems that forced them to give up. His dark eyes then slowly slid over a figure that lowered nearby, scanning the strong back muscles and the tattoo that became a beloved symbol of home for the gunslinger. There was a soft smile that brushed along Jesse’s lips as he reached out to curl his gloved fingers over Hanzo’s long silky ribbon. It was a pleasure to watch the wind play with it every time the Shimada concentrated on aiming into a head of someone in the distance. Hanzo didn’t move,  he only turned his head slightly to the left as if acknowledging McCree’s presence, permitting the soft caress over his shoulder that followed a second later. 

“What d’ya see when you look from the top of the palace in Hanamura, Hanzo?” Jesse’s voice spilled to finally break the prolonged silence. He was beginning to miss the velvet sound of the archer’s speech as if he was denied to hear it for years. The Shimada visibly tensed; evidently, he didn’t like recalling a place he once called home where all the pain he caused turned into devilish ghosts that haunted him now everywhere he went. Nonetheless, he inhaled deeply, brown eyes moving forward to look downward into an abyss that awaited ahead. 

“I can see the mountain, yet beneath, there is only an endless darkness of quiet.” Hanzo muttered audibly as if afraid that someone beside Jesse might hear. 

“And what’s in that darkness?” Jesse straightened up slowly, soon moving his body to become parallel with Shimada’s so that he could give him his whole attention. Hanzo hummed in approval as he felt a strong presence come closer, a sign of him appreciating McCree’s dedication to the deepening thought that the archer was sharing. Without any further notice, he answered: 

“There is chaos.” Truly, beneath the Shimada shrines and endless trees of tender cherry blossoms, the city below was cold and metallic. Hanzo used to hold his gaze there often, wishing for it to vanish and cease penetrating the view of the sacred mountain with its ugliness. He could hear the sounds of a thousand voices down below every time he meditated nearby the edge of a railing under the falling pink petals. It disturbed him at first, but then he learned how to block out the distractions and become one with the world of his own. The perfect world where he finally forgave himself. 

The crickets sang, creation a crescendo along with the other sounds of the night and seeming to come closer and closer to the pair by the edge. McCree’s eyes narrowed slightly as he spotted tiny sparks of soft yellow and green suddenly appear in his view. He chuckled, reaching out with his bionic hand to catch one of the floating lights and present it to a curious archer that seemingly picked up on the movement. 

“Fireflies are like a light at the end of the tunnel for me.” He smirked, watching the Shimada hold the small insect in his palm as it circled around before lifting its small wings and floating off with its shining behind. “They got funny rears too.”

Hanzo huffed a chuckle, shaking his head at the following comment as his eyes moved briefly over Jesse before observing the same small lights swimming in the air like midnight lanterns. Those tiny creatures didn’t live for long, but in their short life-time they managed to become the brightest of their kind, managing to show off their beauty in the simple environment that was always unappreciated by the savage humankind. Hanzo wondered, how many of those bandits that lived here stopped in the middle of the night to notice the small important details of the scenery. They surely ignored the struggling fireflies that tried their best to become noticed and grasp a lingering gaze before letting their light die by dawn.  So many things in this endless chaos were left behind, dancing and trying to redeem themselves as they contributed to the cycle of life. If only Hanzo could stuff those glowing creatures inside his darkness and let them kill it off with their light, perhaps even bring peace that he for sure knew to never find. 

McCree’s soft touch yet again pulled him out of his thoughts. The Shimada turned his head, looking over his left shoulder to notice the gunslingers lips press against his bare shoulder blade.. The archer shivered, clearly pleased by the running sensation before he noticed Jesse’s eyes trying to catch his. There was a silent break between the two before the cowboy straightened up, his lips struck with a familiar smile that Hanzo always froze his eyes on no matter of the situation. He had to appreciate moments like these, who knows when that smile would only become a memory like many others. 

“Do you ever look down, Hanzo?” His voice was serious, gaze now grasping the same abyss they spoke of earlier. The Shimada followed the lead, turning back to observe the darkness underneath. There was a passing thought that was slapped away by an invisible hand before the assassin spoke, shaking his head slightly.

“No. Only those who wish to fall look down.” There was a slight pause between them that made Hanzo reconsider his answer as he wasn’t sure what Jesse was leading to. Was this a question less abstract and Hanzo simply made it into a whole new meaning? He tended to do that a lot as his sophisticated seriousness often took over the witty playfulness he turned loose from time to time. 

“Unless, there’s someone to catch them.” Jesse finally spoke, his voice turning into a soft note in which Hanzo could drown over and over again. It surely soothed him into a moment of peace as he knew that with McCree he didn’t have to worry about getting stabbed in the back. And even if someone tried, the loyal bow and quiver set right by his side, awaiting their owner to take a good grip and slash enemies with a sharp reaction.

Hanzo’s eyes soon found Jesse’s again as he suddenly felt a warm hand slip into his own, fingers intertwining into a soft squeeze. The archer’s expression turned quizzical as he wasn’t sure what Jesse meant by his statement. There was a long quietness that spread before the Shimada noticed the gunslinger leaning in closer, his breath softly caressing Hanzo’s skin, causing him to part his lips slightly as he blinked, enchanted by the heavy scent of smoke and dust that matched Jesse so well. During the first impressions, Hanzo felt repulsed by the heavy smell of the West, he even poked needles into Jesse’s side by mentioning a nice shower or a bath. The cowboy only laughed at the man, spreading his arms as if saying that there was nothing he could do about it as he took pride in everything he was. After time passed, Hanzo was thankful that Jesse remained the same, letting the Shimada enjoy whom he became close with. 

A soft intake of oxygen meant that the gunslinger was about to speak, making Hanzo’s ears tense in desire to listen. The cowboy’s lips parted as they spread into a grin, the hand in archer’s tightening the grip before his voice caressed the assassin’s ears. 

“I’ll catch ya, darlin’.” Hanzo blinked a few times as if registering what McCree just said. It was a noble statement, he remarked, as Jesse was always the man to find the right thing to say. And while it melted many hearts of passing ladies, Hanzo was a tough one to crack and it took a lot of work on Jesse’s side to summon that sharp side glance that meant that Hanzo was hooked. This time, it struck the Shimada deeper into his broken soul that craved  a constant reminder that he wasn’t walking alone anymore. It was true that the Japanese hunter stood on the bridge with a dark abyss below, just like the one the two were gazing at earlier. However, he never looked down as he knew that he would succumb to the blackness and fall deep into the misery he caused to his brother and himself as the clan became a toxic symbol of shattering ties. 

Jesse was another story. He was the one that stood by Hanzo’s side now and helped him upon every stumble. He was a shoulder to hold onto when the demons began to cloud the Shimada’s mind and choke him late at night. Similarly, the archer did the same for the gunslinger; he was that firefly that Jesse described. He was the light at the end of the tunnel that McCree reached out to every time there was lightning in his sky. A fair trade of two killers that decided to fool Death and become partners in crime and steal the  fragile happiness that they thought to lose a long time ago. 

“I know you will.” There was a ghostly smile that grazed Hanzo’s lips, one of those rare ones that Jesse couldn’t get enough of. Evidently now, the cowboy was staring at his face intently, memorizing the beloved curve and the softened features of a man he sworn to give up a life for. It was dangerous to adore a man who was wanted dead as well, and yet, Jesse took the risk because he knew that here, in the dangerous canyon of a silent dead town, he could safely drop his guard in a company of Hanzo. Shimada often called him a fool for doing so, but hell if Jesse listened. 

The distant howling turned into a tune as the fireflies continued to circle around the endless rocky formations that managed to cool down. The tension fell, the darkness thickening over the edge of the canyon as the rest was lost among the stars far above. Here, were pollution of big modern cities didn’t touch the strong nature, the millions of shining dots were strikingly mesmerizing. One could lose themselves if they tried to count every single one, falling into internal peace as they would become one with this night. 

The duo that still remained in the same spot shifted slightly, letting the timid Moon that peeked from the corner of a tall rock shine downward upon them. The pale glow reflected from the ribbon that held long onyx hair in a strict ponytail, moving over to tease the lips that intertwined together. Their breaths combined, leaving the sharpshooters craving each other’s embrace in a split moment of stillness, losing themselves in their shared world where all the worried of the present were forgotten. 

In the morning they will have to move on and cover their ammunition in blood, perhaps even gain a new zero under their name. However, tonight, they will enjoy every single second that would’ve been a shame to waste. Time was always against them, and no matter how much Jesse would have to run, his lips would always remind crooked in a smile as a lean form of his Shimada would always be in his view. He would never let Hanzo fall into that darkness he damned himself to linger in similarly, the archer would hold true to his promise to remain the light guiding the gunslinger ahead into the future. 

Thus, there they were, among the fireflies, playing a game with fate against the odds that pouted in their direction and spreading dust over those that doubted their capabilities of survival. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. My Azure Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Blue. Sometimes, it is more than a color...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . Day 4 of McHanzo week with the theme: Red || Blue.   
>  Have some smut after fluff, sinners.

**McHanzo Week**

**Day 4: Red || Blue**

**My Azure Sunset**

The tenderness of the passing blue breeze caressed the reddening cheeks of an archer that truly had no idea what he permitted when he agreed to become a part of a game. He had a choice: to meditate under the flowing cherry blossoms of his beloved home or entrust himself to a lewd smile that played on McCree’s lips. As a secret lover of a thrill, Hanzo picked the obvious and immediately regretted his decisions when his silky blue ribbon slipped from his ponytail, unleashing his onyx locks to fall just above his shoulders. Soon, the cloth pressed over his eyes, blocking the pink view of the blooming trees and a passing red serape that was owned by the slyly grinning cowboy. 

_ What a fool I am _ , Hanzo thought to himself before he suddenly felt a cold metal thumb press against his bottom lip, pushing against it to make the archer slightly open his mouth. The Shimada released a short exhale, his whole body suddenly frozen from the anticipation of whatever it was that Jesse planned. 

“What are you doing?” The assassin finally dared to speak as he felt the same hand slip along his sharp jawline, down to play with his hair before it landed on the azure cloth belt that held his tunic around his waist. 

“Just wait ‘n see.” Came the response in a low raspy voice, one of those that Hanzo didn’t like to hear in public as it summoned a  _ particular _ response the Shimada wasn’t fond of. The archer shifted slightly, muttering something under his nose as he turned his head from side to side with no hope of seeing whatever it is McCree was doing. A moment later, the man felt his belt loosen and slip like a blue serpent before slithering away into the arms of the cowboy. There was an odd pause that made Hanzo tense his ears, trying to pick up the slightest sound of Jesse’s approach, but instead, he felt a strong smell of tobacco nearby before his lips were trapped by a demanding kiss. The Shimada gasped in a passing surprise, brows furrowing as he didn’t find the startling experience much to his amusement. A sniper is nothing without his eyes and Hanzo was deprived of just that at the moment.

“Jesse-” Hanzo parted away, turning his head to the side as if knowing precisely where McCree was.  The air was as still as the blue ice beneath the soft snow on a winter morning and the sounds surrounding the two men seemed to fade as well. 

“Ah, darlin’,” the cowboy’s voice appeared next to the archer's ear, caressing the man with a hot reddening breath before holding the Shimada by the waist. Hanzo groaned in a struggle of being touched without seeing the movement beforehand. Something slipped off McCree’s broad shoulders, as Hanzo listened, concluding that it was the crimson serape the cowboy barely took off.  A moment later, the assassin felt warm cloth slip along his backside before Jesse’s body pressed against his in a rushing wave. Hanzo inhaled sharply, not expecting the closeness that was only for the purpose of spreading the damned accessory he mistook for a blanket under his body. 

“There you go.” The cowboy grinned, shifting even closer and partially forcing the Shimada press his back to the ground. 

“Explain yourself.” Hanzo grumbled, his hands searching Jesse’s chest to learn more about the awkward position both of them were. This was different from what the archer was used to; usually, he and McCree enjoyed the stretching sheets of the bed in their frequently shared bedroom. Now, instead of the silk beneath him, Hanzo felt the touch serape of the cowboy that had some sinister plan inside his head. 

“Be patient, dear.” Jesse replied with a slight cock of his head as he hummed in a passing thought, his fingers playing with the blue silk in his hands before his dark eyes sparked yet again. 

“I grow tired of waiting.” Hanzo sighed, suddenly concerned about the following chuckle from Jesse. This time, he truly began to realize what a mistake it was to let Jesse humor him for the time of a short break under the lingering trees and an indigo skyline above. It was a perfect combination of hues that the Shimada, unfortunately, couldn’t see because of the damned ribbon over his eyes. Alas, soon, he couldn’t even curse the gunslinger in his head as he suddenly felt his wrists being tugged and wrapped with a familiar silk. His arms were forced to lift upward over his head, fingers spreading as the sudden feeling of rough wood. It took him a second to realize that now he was bound around the trunk of the cherry tree with only his lower limbs being permitted the freedom of movement. 

“J-Jesse??” The man questioned, pulling on the familiar belt that now served a completely different purpose. No answer followed as silence fell around him, his body shifting slightly to at least adjust to a new state of being. 

“You look so beautiful.” The gunslinger’s voice crashed like thunder on a sunny day out of nowhere, forcing Hanzo to freeze yet again as his head slowly turned to the side, following the location of the sound. “So, so beautiful.” The cowboy repeated, leaning over to press his warm lips against the archer’s bare shoulder, causing a soft shudder in response. It summoned a smirk on McCree’s lips as his darkening eyes darted upward to steal a look at the troubled expression of the blinded assassin. 

“Ya sure are sensitive right now, darling.” 

“Jesse, untie me, I do not approve of this.” Hanzo protested immediately as his voice returned to him. However, his plea was only followed by a repeated kiss pattern along his shoulder to his neck, forcing the man to grasp his bottom lips with his teeth to prevent a groan from escaping his chest. 

“Liar, I know you like it.” Jesse exhaled hotly into the soft Shimada ear before dropping his voice to a sweet whisper. “I know you want more.” 

“S-Stop.” Hanzo clenched his teeth, his jaw tensing from the sudden bitter feeling from the realization of Jesse being right. It was true, the experience of being tied to a tree like this was new, but it wasn’t unpleasant. If anything, the archer was suddenly thrilled by the turning future. Nonetheless, he was known for his stubbornness, thus he continued to tug on the blue silk in hopes of freeing himself. 

“Hm, not sure ya mean that, Hanzo.” Jesse purred, now moving his hands to spread the loose tunic to reveal the toned chest of the assassin beneath him. The gunslinger whistled, still fascinated by the perfection of the counterpart no matter how many times he had seen him nude. There was that beauty of a simple routine that McCree kept fresh in his memory; he loved the way Hanzo looked and he couldn’t get enough of it.

The gloved thumb slowly brushed over the familiar tattoo, following the swirling dragon in the dark blue sky before it moved to softly flick over the exposed nipple. It summoned an expected reaction from the Shimada as the man shifted and inhaled sharply yet again. Jesse smiled at the scenery and continued to search his archer’s body before finally diving forward to plant slow lewd kisses on his chest. 

“Did I ever tell you how good you taste?” McCree inquired, gazing upward for a moment as his lips stopped their traveling, focusing on one spot where his teeth grasped Hanzo’s skin. The hot scarlet tongue brushed along the bite mark that was left behind as if asking for forgiveness Jesse never meant. The Shimada said nothing as he was too busy trying to muffle a raging groan that managed to escape his throat. “Hm, I need to remind ya then.” The gunslinger concluded with a wide grin, going right back to the same plan of marking his territory by creating a chain of love bites over Hanzo’s chest before he made it down to his abdomen. 

Meanwhile, Hanzo’s head was pulsing in a battle between common sense and that sweet azure fog that wished to invade his mind and make him forget himself. Jesse always found a way to push the right buttons, especially after the years of them being together. There were so many weak spots that he managed to discover, it was almost embarrassing for the archer. His back curved inward as the man felt the cowboy drawing a wet trail from his belly button to the edge of the white trousers that were surely as loose as the tunic. 

“Don’t-”

“Shhh” Jesse interrupted right away, forcing Hanzo to shut his mouth before he could finish his protest. There was no way the Shimada could get of this and both men understood it. McCree rejoiced, of course, as he had Hanzo all for himself with no one interrupting the perfect torture he had planned. It was a true honoring breaking the assassin into fully submitting to the gunslinger, and if Jesse had the opportunity to enjoy it, he would never miss it. 

The tongue that was playing with Hanzo’s skin earlier now retreated back behind Jesse’s lips as the gunslinger straightened up, fingers shifting to grasp the edges of the man’s trousers, pulling them lower to his armored ankles. The gunslinger took a second to search the metal accessories that Hanzo wore in order to reduce the sound of his feet and shook his head. There was no way he would waste time taking those off, thus, after the pants made a lucky landing somewhere next to the warm rock behind them, McCree left the armor where it was and slid Hanzo’s legs over his shoulders. 

“It going to be a fun ride, darling.” He snickered, lowering himself to find the perfect parallel to level with Hanzo’s body. At this moment, the archer realized the cowboy’s plan and began to shift to escape him, which resulted in an obvious failure. Jesse shook his head and leaned his head to the side to plant a rich kiss again Hanzo’s toned thigh. “Not a chance.” 

What followed was a pure torture for the Shimada as he was left to helplessly tug on the damned silk as McCree’s teeth suddenly sunk into the flushed skin, tasting it like a dessert on a royal-blue platter. The blinded sharpshooter released a pronounced groan, his back finding the same arch as before as his legs spread wider under a command of an invisible string. Hanzo despised showing such weakness under the gunslinger, but there was nothing he could do when Jesse was so good at what he did every single time. No matter how many fights the Shimada enjoyed putting up, the cowboy always found a way to splatter red across the archer’s cheeks. _Unacceptable._

The cold fingers of Jesse’s prosthetic scraped gentle along the outer side of Hanzo’s leg, creating a ripple of shivers as he shifted closer to the man’s crotch. The Shimada could already feel the hungry hot breath against the tender skin still hidden under the soft underwear that McCree failed to get rid off along with Hanzo’s pants. And of course, there was a reason for it. 

Hot lips pressed against the outline of the assassin’s manhood so suddenly, the man could barely register his response before he let out an audible moan. It was a sound of success for Jesse as he knew that the hardening flesh underneath his tickling touch meant Hanzo enjoyed. However, he didn’t hurry to reveal it; he enjoyed the fact of his lover being tortured by the tight cloth against his cock similar to the way McCree’s own trousers felt. It was a maddening experience for both of them, but it was precisely what excited more as one had the pleasure of the sight and the other, of sensation.  

“How are ya holdin’ up there, my prince?” Jesse teased, looking up briefly, meanwhile, his lips remained to trace the length of Hanzo’s manhood, even letting his tongue glide over the cloth from time to time. The Shimada only responded with a half-moan before making an attempt to pull his head upward. 

“Shut your mouth, fool.” The response came but in a broken tone instead of hostile; Hanzo knew he was enjoying this little game more and more, no matter how ridiculous it was. He felt as if his whole body was slowly dipped into a raging inferno, just waiting to devour him completely.

“Mhm, sure.” McCree chuckled and grasped the girth of Hanzo’s manhood with his lips as best as the cloth of the underwear allowed. He applied a bit of pressure that was enough to make the archer’s hips shift upward as a sign of a need for attention. Jesse obliged to the silent hint and rained reckless kisses over the outline that was now more pronounced that before. It summoned a pleased smile over his lips, gladly hidden from the eyes of the assassin that was surely melting from the sensation. 

“Jesse, stop this.” Hanzo suddenly spoke, managing to catch his breath as he felt McCree part away from the activity and perhaps even look up at the other. “Take the rest off.” A sudden order took the gunslinger to the next level of amusement as he knew he was coming close on pushing Hanzo to the edge. Soon, he will start begging. 

“Oh? And what do I get for it?” The cowboy remarked playfully, licking his lips as his index fingers hooked at the line of Hanzo’s underwear, pulling it back and forth in a lingering patience. The Shimada groaned again, his hips hovering off the ground periodically as his body was missing the heartless touch of the mastermind. 

“You get-” Hanzo’s voice cut off to a mutter as he knew he would regret his word for the rest of his life along with all those other concerns he adds on every day. Nonetheless, it didn’t stop the cowboy from his maddening curiosity as he suddenly abandoned the underwear and shifted his whole body forward to come face to face with Hanzo. His hips pushed sharply against Shimada’s, summoning a surprised moan to fly off the archer’s lips. 

“What do I get?” McCree inquired yet again, his pelvis moving to grind his heated front against his partner’s, not giving him a break between breaths. Hanzo didn’t expect such a change of pace, especially when he was fighting every sound that tried to escape his chest. It was becoming harder to control himself as Jesse always managed to bring a new sensation into every dirty act of his. 

“You get me.” The archer finally complied breathlessly, his tone quiet and barely audible as he was ashamed to admit that Jesse had won yet again even if Hanzo agreed to this in the first place. 

“Didn’t hear ya there,” McCree smirk, greedily grasping on the tortured expression as his merciless movement didn’t cease. The thrusts weren’t frequent, but when they came, Hanzo could feel his whole body replied with a howl of desire that suddenly hit hard against his core. 

“Me!” The Shimada snarled, his muscles tensing as he made another failed attempt to rip away from the silky bindings. “You get _me_.” 

“All of you?” Jesse whispered against Hanzo’s lips, making the assassin part them in the need for that lingering touch. His ear began to ring as his insides screamed against his own stubbornness, twisting into a raging red dragon that beat and clawed for a release. 

“Yes. All of me. _Completely_.” The archer exhaled impatiently, craning his neck to get closer to the other. McCree smirked slyly, nodding his head approvingly as he permitted a short kiss before pulling away and returning to his former position. It took Hanzo all self-control he possessed to not whine at the absence of the gunslinger's warm body over his own, especially those damn soft lips that were surrounded by dark facial hair that always tickled the Japanese man’s skin. 

“Very good.” The cowboy whispered, finally getting rid of Hanzo’s underwear and letting him exhale in sudden freedom as his hardened manhood was set free. However, the torture hadn’t ended there. 

Hot lips pressed against the red naked tip of the Shimada’s cock, sliding to cover it as it sunk into Jesse’s mouth. The sensation of heated wetness and a sharp lingering tongue send Hanzo’s mind spinning and falling into that thick azure fog he tried to fight off earlier. His back arched almost painfully and mouth parted to release a lewd sound that set off McCree ears into bliss. It was like a symphony of movement and desire topped with a soft singing that Jesse managed to compose. Hanzo was a musical instrument: with the right touch, he was able to flow with the beautiful tune. McCree knew what he was doing as he sunk the hard shaft further into his mouth, he knew exactly how to make his Shimada tick. 

Hanzo bit his bottom lip, slithering beneath the skillful mouth like a worrying serpent trying to escape a trap. His muffled moans and huffs became louder, looser, and much more pleasing as they froze in the air shared by the two lovers. McCree was celebrating as he bobbed his head north and south, letting his tongue draw a few virtuous designs of his own imagination.

“Jesse, enough-” The assassin’s voice stretched, every vowel being doubled in a sudden plea. “I can’t take it anymore.” He confessed, his body nearly turning to the side to escape the cowboy as Hanzo was nearly sent to a peak. The cowboy caught onto the hint and smirk as he planted a quick kiss on the tip of the man’s cock before slowly crawling upward. 

“Fine, fine, I won’t torture ya, _for now_.” McCree cooed lovingly, though it was obvious that his face had a sly side-smirk. It was one of those curves that meant that something of this sort was yet to repeat sometime in the future and it was only a question of time before Hanzo would find himself in the darkness again. 

“Thank you.” The Shimada didn't lose his old etiquette as he exhaled in a sudden easiness, picking up on the sound of the heavy golden buckle popping free. He shifted, sliding his legs over McCree’s waist that was conveniently close now, ankles hooking over his lower back. Perhaps it was the first time where Hanzo admitted how inconvenient his leg armor was as the damned material slipped a few times, making it hard to create a solid lock. However,  that thought was soon abandoned as the archer suddenly felt something hard press against his heated entrance. It took one strong push to send his head flying back to hit the crimson serape underneath, his hair spreading like an onyx halo of a fallen angel. His lips parted to release a moan of pure pleasure, back creating an elegant arch as Jesse’s shaft claimed him completely. 

There was no need for preparation or a wise purchase of lube as the pre-cum from the patient torture did its job for the dominating half. The Shimada was left catching his breath and mouthing Jesse’s name as he felt a thrust upon thrust take him under the tree that held his captive. The smell of cherry blossoms seemed to be richer now that Hanzo’s senses were sharpened, his whole body beating in sensations most unexpected. He felt like he discovered a new world as he completely entrusted himself to McCree. 

It was so easy to kill the assassin right now, so easy to just slash his throat, and watch him choke on his own blood. And yet, instead, he was drowned in bliss, a pure aquamarine heaven with lewd silky clouds that refused to let his sanity a safe return to earth. The Southern dragon roared within the man’s chest, its eyes turning red as it signaled that the man wouldn’t last long. McCree felt it and he was coming onto the same finish line along with the lover underneath. 

Two bodies collided harder this time, the thrusts becoming unforgiving and intoxicating as both men tried to match each other’s pace and fulfill the need for contact. Lips crashed together as a silent sign of an end approaching, tongues intertwined in a savage dance that was a rare occasion of an everlasting affection. The archer moaned sweetly, his hands aching with a need to touch his gunslinger, hug his neck, and sink his nails into the broad shoulders until a pure red was drawn upon his skin. He begged through the endless sounds and kisses, but Jesse didn’t listen and only shut the Shimada with more passionate sensations. 

Soon there was an explosion that made both bodies freeze as they almost fell into a sync of a firework. Red and blue began to spark in their eyes, endless stars as both men lost each other in a trip of a spinning engine. After a minute or two, their breaths became steadier, wet lips parted and heads fell to the side in utter bliss of the moment. It took a short pause for them to gather themselves and capture the ability to speak again. Jesse rolled over to his back to rest nearby the heavily breathing Shimada, a drunken grin spread over his lips as he was ready to spread over the grass for the rest of the day. 

“Stunning as always, Hanzo.” Jesse complimented first, placing a lazy kiss against the man’s sweaty shoulder and nuzzling into it as he knew that it was a job well done. The Shimada only huffed, unable to speak as his eyelids attempted to open under the thin ribbon. 

“Don’t fish for praise unless you untie me, gunslinger.” The assassin growled, still short of his breath as his feet sunk into the ground, his whole body going limp as it parted from the high. It was an incredible experience, yes, but it would be nice to see again. Jesse smirked and shook his head as he leaned over to untie Hanzo’s wrists, loosening the belt from the curve of the tree trunk and then working on the ribbon to finally let the archer see the light of day again. 

“Whatever you say, darling~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: angst.

**Author's Note:**

> To find out more themes and etc here's the link of themes for the week:  
> http://mchanzo-week.tumblr.com/


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